When you like the idea of someone and not because you have a close connection 

So I went to my friend Josh’s birthday party last night and after he said he was going to make out with this very pretty girl I got very jealous and eventually very low and upset. I ended up crying into Josh’s arms and telling him that I have feelings for him and then saying that I was very upset and that I had to leave. 

I think sometimes it’s just one of those things; you want what you can’t have and you like a guy who is great on paper as he ticks so many boxes but you don’t actually have a strong connection with him.

I still feel low today but I’m sure in a few days I’ll be fine. I just think I need to take a break from Josh for at least a month. 

creative writing, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, Uncategorized

I’m through with you

You were so charmingly cute,

you painted laughter on my face so easily.

Your intelligence warmed my heart.

But you didn’t give a shit about me.

I was just a fleeting desire to you-

I meant nothing to you.

Whilst my unrequited affection

And your ignoring made me cry

You had the audacity to say we

Could still talk on the phone

Because you love talking to me

And that maybe something could happen in the future.

Well, my response is that you’re a dick

And I’m through with you.

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016


art, creative writing, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, Uncategorized

I’m done with unrequited love

I’m done with unrequited love.

Stop killing me with your lack of affection.

Friendly smiles just from friends not lovers.

There’s no romantic affection.


I’m done with unrequited love.

It’s killing me.

Please let the feeling’s stop.

I can’t bear the rejection,

The dejection.

It’s killing me.


My heart is shattered

Because I don’t mean enough to you.

I don’t want to feel anymore.

If only I didn’t feel so much.


Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

creative writing, Poems, Poetry

La Douleur Exquise

A thorn in the heart,
The long-lasting longing.
Bitter love;
Romance is dead.
Exept in the mind
Exists an inferno
Of imagined kisses,
imagined meetings.
All that exists are glances and smiles exchanged,
Hand holding.
Promising gestures
But no actions.

How could I be so naive?
The serpent withholds the forbidden fruit;
The scent of tempting, out of reach raspberries poisoning my mind.
The centre of my back bleeds
rose-red blood.
The perfume of the red rose
Is bitterly beautiful
And lethally sweet.

The painful promise of beauty;
Pure lies.
My English teacher was right;
Love is hell.
Except it was never love,
Always la douleur exquise.
All I know is la douleur exquise.

Copyright © C.M.H July 2014